Smooth
by chieflybeing
Summary: The sounds, the smells, the tastes, the textures, the pleasure. Draco Malfoy unabashedly loves everything about sex and he get a lot of it at school. Ginny Weasley is seduced into his reality - not like she needed much to convince her.
1. Prologue

Every wizard at Hogwarts was bound to have in their possession, or have seen, a copy of the Daily Prophet's exclusive report on Fleur Delacour's recent beach holiday.

Mademoiselle Delacour, darling of Beauxbatons, was caught sunbathing in the nude. The editors ran the story all over the front page and readers were treated to a photo of the usually-poised French girl in her birthday suit, much to the delight of the male wizarding population. Sales at the Daily Prophet went through the roof that day.

In the Slytherin Common Room, Blaise Zabini peered over Draco Malfoy's shoulder as the latter examined the article.

"Good to know the carpet matches the drapes, eh Malfoy?"

Draco frowned at the other Slytherin boy and turned his attention back to Fleur's moving image. All long limbs and ample breasts, she struggled to cover her modesty with her hands. The wisps of silver hair between her legs visible to all as she ducked for cover.

Draco could not see the attraction at all. You see, he fancied himself as something of a connoisseur. The heir to the Malfoy wealth liked them bald – 'them' being pussies, cunts, slits and what-have-you's. In their bare form, one could fully appreciate their peach-like glory.

He loved having fun with them: stroking their silky outsides with his index finger, seeing the middle seam split open with the application of slight pressure, revealing all the juicy pinkness underneath. Who can forget those rivulets of sticky fluid oozing out from that glorious passageway? Oftentimes pooling in one delectable crevice or another, girl cum had its own allure that was distinct from the rest of the female pleasure infrastructure. His penchant for the nectar trained him to be a skilled cunnilinguist. The thought made him swell with pride.

Above all, Draco Malfoy was addicted to sex. Every aspect of it enthralled him: the feeling of bare skin sliding against bare skin, feminine softness giving way to his masculine hardness, the happy squelching sounds made by two bodies joined together intimately, the smell of sweat comingling with the heady muskiness of arousal, the guttural vocalisation of pleasure, the rhythmic contractions of internal muscles rarely utilised for any other occasion than orgasm, et cetera. He loved it all.

More importantly, sex gave him a brief respite from the crushing heaviness of reality. The pink between a woman's legs gave him something less dreary to focus on, even for the briefest of moments. Coaxing an orgasm out of another person felt far more rewarding than any twisted task set by his dear father. In the throes of his own climax, he could escape the bounds of his own existence – not a Malfoy, not the Slytherin ringleader, not a Death Eater, not a wizard – just a young man with needs.

Fortunately for him, he was never left wanting in terms of a willing partner at Hogwarts. Pansy Parkinson would gladly spread her legs in a jiffy, and had done so on many occasions. So would Daphne Greengrass and her sister, Astoria Greengrass, Tracey Davis, Cho Chang…

But the Weasley girl was the best. Long flaming red locks cascading down her slim back, emerald green eyes framed by a smoky curtain of lashes, a pair of creamy white globes straining against her shirt and not a single wisp of hair adorning her alabaster pussy. What he loved the most about her was how wet she was for him, always.

Draco's grey eyes darkened as his thoughts turned to the petite redhead, oblivious to the raucous laughter of his Slytherin compatriots ogling the miniature quarter-Veela scrambling inside the borders of her photograph world.


	2. 1 Her

Ginny Weasley was aware of the pair of eyes trained on her back as she slipped her skirt off, allowing the material to pool at her legs, joining the rest of her uniform already strewn on the floor. She felt the cold air swirl around her newly exposed skin, causing her nipples to harden within the confines of her threadbare bra. She could feel a draft penetrating through the gaps of her grey cotton panties and wished she had chosen to wear her black lace set today. Too late now. She smoothed the fabric covering her bottom.

"I'm sorry," Ginny whispered, gesturing to the scraps of fabric on her body, "I wasn't expecting to see you today."

She put her arms around herself, looking back over her shoulder at the other occupant in the room. He said nothing, with an unreadable look on his face. She started to shiver, wondering what he would do to her and when.

She was on her way to the library when a door opened and an arm shot out to wrench her from the corridor into a dusty classroom. Her surprised yelp was quickly silenced by another hand over her mouth. She struggled against it for a few seconds, feeling the panic rise within her.

But when the familiar scent of tobacco and mandarin reached her nose, she relaxed, recognising her captor. There was only one person in the world who smelled like that. He let go of her then, stalking over to a chair set in the middle of the room and settling down in it. Her eyes never left his broad form.

She took a few seconds to gather herself, massaging away the lingering butterflies fluttering in the pit of her belly. Then she launched herself into the familiar routine of removing articles of clothing. As usual, she kept her back turned, unwilling to look at his face whilst she stripped. Like always, she felt the gusset of her panties becoming increasingly wet as she bared her flesh to him.

She stood there for what seemed like eternity, waiting for a command or a touch. She felt her flesh go cold, despite the warmth emanating from her core. The contrast between the liquid heat and the cold surroundings made her feel almost feverish.

Ginny bit her lip when he finally stirred. He shifted in his seat and palmed the front of his trousers. Ginny caught a glimpse of the bulge marring the smooth lines of the fabric and blushed.

"Touch yourself. Keep your underwear on."

Ginny frowned. "Right here? Standing up?"

"Any way you want, Weasley."

She opted to keep her back to him, using the opportunity to shield her face from his sight. Reaching into her panties, she was glad the waistband was a tad loose. Her fingers brushed the moisture pooling at her outer lips. Her skin was smooth and hairless, and she revelled in its silkiness.

She silently thanked Madam Pommery, her ballet instructor, for extolling the virtues of de-fuzzing _down there _many years ago. Molly Weasley had pished-poshed the idea but Ginny, ever eager to please, went ahead with a waxing regimen and had kept it up ever since. The heightened sensitivity in the area was definitely worth the pain, she mused, as she felt every stroke against her skin more intensely.

She moved her knees further apart, allowing herself better access. Dipping into the well of wetness, she spread the viscous liquid around. Finally, she settled her digits over the bundle of nerves situated at the top of her slit. She moved her fingers over the protruding nub and sighed. Her _clit_, that was what he called it the first time they were together like this.


	3. 2 First Time

She remembered the first time he touched her right there. He had her up against the wall, his body pinning her down, with his hand wedged between her legs. Ginny was mortified. She had tried to wriggle away, but it only seemed to increase the friction, and the pleasure. The feeling of wetness _down there_ was almost unbearable.

She felt dirty, soiling her underwear like that, made worse with his fingers moving all that liquid about. During her sessions of self-exploration, as she liked to call them, she had always made sure to remove her underwear. She always liked feeling clean.

And then he pinched that little triangular pearl. A low moan escaped her lips. He growled then.

"You like me playing with your clit, don't you Weasley?"

Another pinch and a hard flick. A keening sound erupted from Ginny's throat, unbidden. She had never heard of that word before, but it seemed to be a befitting name for that pleasurable nub. It sounded…naughty. _Clit_.

His fingers settled on a punishing rhythm: six quick strokes followed by six slow ones. She felt a pressure building somewhere deep within her. A throbbing ache that needed to be stroked in order to be dissipated. But it was hidden somewhere unknown, somewhere she had never reached before.

Frustrated, she arched backwards. Somewhere in the small of her back, she felt a hard object prodding her. It felt far too big to be a wand. Emboldened by her state of arousal, she ground against the hardness, curious to know what it was. Behind her, he groaned and his fingers stilled. Her brain made the connection.

"Is that –?" She started.

Fingers left her sopping wet slit. Ginny almost cried out with protest but bit her lip instead. The throbbing between her legs needed attention but she was not about to let him know. Instead, she ground her thighs together to ease some of the pressure.

She could hear a sharp intake of breath and the sound of a belt unbuckling. The fingers were back but this time they were dragging her sodden panties off her nether regions. The red silk gusset was soaked through. He chuckled.

"No, don't!" Ginny gasped, "I'm – I'm not ready for that yet."

He hushed her. "I won't do anything you don't want me to do. Trust me."

His voice had a calming quality to it. She felt like she could almost trust him. But it was the unbearable need for release that tipped the scales in his favour. She nodded back at him.

Putting a steady hand on her shoulder, he bent her forward and she closed her eyes in anticipation.

Ginny felt the most exquisite warmth pressed against her most intimate area. Soft, pliable and wet, to match her own wetness. Looking down between her legs, she saw him on his knees, his hands reaching inside his trousers to grasp himself. She gasped as she realised that he was probing her folds with his tongue.

He nipped her lightly with his teeth, causing her to cry out softly. He then laved the area with his tongue, as if to soothe her. He repeated this several times before latching on to her clit, sucking hard. She could feel herself coming undone rapidly. The sensation was almost too much to bear. She found herself staring at him, sucked in by the visual of him pulling his member out of the confines of his trousers.

She had seen a man's penis before. After all, it was hard to avoid, living in a household like hers. But there was a fine distinction between a flaccid penis and an erect one, and Ginny was sure that she had never laid eyes upon the latter.

_It _jutted out from his body in a manner befitting its owner – tall and proud. His long fingers barely encircled the entirety of its girth as he tugged on it rhythmically. She licked her lips as she espied a bead of moisture pooling at the tip and wondered what it would be like to taste him. Seeing him pleasure himself pushed her closer towards her peak.

He started licking her in long, broad strokes, dragging his tongue from the mouth of her entrance to the root of her clit. Ginny let out a high-pitched whine, thrusting backwards against him. He eased a finger into her depths and curled it, rubbing that aching spot. This was it. At the third stroke, she exploded against him. He removed his finger and mashed his lips against her entrance, drinking her liquor and allowing her to ride out her orgasm by rocking her pulsing folds against his mouth.

From her vantage point, she could see his hand moving in a blur over his manhood. Fascinated, she gawked as he jerked once, twice before jets of silvery liquid squirted from its tip. She jumped slightly as he threw his head back from between her legs and roared. His seed splattered across the floor in an arc. It was all incredibly messy, but very satisfying to watch. She felt an incredible urge to slurp it all up but questioned whether it was entirely appropriate.

After a few minutes, he stood up, zipping up his trousers. Casting a Scouring Charm over himself and the floor, he looked over at her for a brief moment before walking out the door.

She slumped to the ground, thinking that she would never forget the way Draco Malfoy came.


End file.
